Song basis: Meghan Trainor – Better When I'm Dancing
Warning: KPop songs, just in case someone doesn't like KPop; and really shitty writing.
Disclaimer: I don't own Yuri on Ice and the songs used. The only thing I own here is the fanfic…and the OCs. ^_^
Amidst the sound of cars that occasionally drove by, through the humid air that clung on the fabric of his jacket, despite the tears that blurred his vision and the burning ache pulsing in his legs, he kept running.
When he was sure that he was alone, far enough to be undetectable to almost everyone, he dropped his bag and lay on the grass. The cold dampness on his back contrasted the hot tears that flowed down to his temples. Yuuri made no effort to wipe them away. He hiccupped as quietly as he could. His tears blurred the dark yet starry sky.
The memory of it all replayed in his mind. The thuds that resonated with every misstep, the clicks of the judges' tongues and their hisses, the remarks of disapproval, and the insults from the youngest member of the university's dance team echoing in the desolate walls of the auditorium's bathroom; all of these are seared into Yuuri's memory.
"Why did you even try, shithead? You're no dancer. You're just a fat piglet wishing to dance on the same stage as our star. There's no place for you here…loser!"
The tears flowed faster down into the grass. His hiccups grew louder. Yuuri pressed his palms into his eyes, pushing up his glasses; whether to stop the tears or the voices in his head, he didn't know.
He suddenly chuckled, his voice devoid of all emotion. Of course, what was he thinking? Did he really expect to catch the eye of the university's best dancers? Did he really think that a mediocre dancer like him can amaze Victor?
Everyone looks up to Victor Nikiforov. He is one of, if not the best dancer of the Skylight Dance Company. He can make any dance his if he wanted to. His moves are so precise and smooth that the audience forgets how to blink for an entire performance. As their university's publication described him in a feature story, he is like a god dancing with the lights.
Put him in a team and everyone will tell you that he is the one in-charge. It may seem in some instances that he holds the marionette strings of all the other dancers.
They never fail to surprise, never fail to mesmerize. But no matter how good the other dancers are, the audience will always set their eyes on Victor. Whether it's a competition or an intermission performance, their team always gets the loudest cheers thanks to him.
And what does an amateur dancer like Yuuri Katsuki have against a star like Victor Nikiforov or a team like the Skylight Dance Company? He trips over his footwork as if he has chicken legs. His arms and hands do these unnecessary movements that make his dances look sloppy. Hell, all he does is dance to other songs as if he's making a cover. They, especially Victor, can choreograph an entire routine. All of these thoughts kept Yuuri's heart and mind anchored to the ground. Also, the facts that one, Victor was one of the judges who got to see him fail; and two, that Yuri Plisetsky, one of the team's rising stars, called him a loser made it all worse.
Victor caught his heart the first time he saw him dance in the freshman convocation nearly two years ago. He remembered how less than two years ago, he dreamt of dancing with Victor. Now, he just deemed himself as delusional. Who was he kidding? A mediocre dancer sharing the stage with a star was just insane.
He lost track of time. He was so deeply immersed in his self-remorse that he didn't notice someone poking his belly. Yuuri removed the arm covering his eyes to see his best friend slash roommate look down at him in concern.
"Come on, Yuuri. Let's go home."
Victor plopped on his bed, exhausted after a long day of lectures and laboratory sessions. He wanted to forget that he still has his papers due in a few days and that he has to choreograph their next performance routine.
Chemical Engineering was no walk in the park and he knew that. If his parents still won't let him work as a dance instructor after graduation, at least he had a second choice.
He groaned into his pillow. His homework isn't really top priority at the moment.
Though the competition is still three months away, he knew he has to come up with moves that will blow the audience away once more. But throughout his years of choreographing routines with his teammates, the moves he suggests become less and less impactful. The audience cheers them on, but he knows that in time, they will get tired of the predictability.
He needs an inspiration, something new and fresh. He has to think of a concept that no one has ever seen before. But Victor is starting to get tired. He thinks back to the batch of new recruits.
They're all young, so he's pretty sure that there will be a lot of brilliant ideas that can be contributed to the team, ideas that might be better than his. Now that he thinks about it, since they have so many members now in their dance team, maybe he can file for inactivity.
He chuckles soullessly, envisioning a five-hour long lecture from their advisers once they hear of his plan to be an inactive member.
"Yuuri." Phichit called. No response.
"Yuuri." He tried again. But Yuuri still isn't answering.
"Yuuri!" He lightly slapped his friend's shoulder, jolting him out of his review session. Yuuri removed his headphones and looked at his roommate with wide eyes.
"What is it, Phichit?"
"It has been three weeks, Yuuri. I've been thinking that maybe it's about time that you…you know, go back and keep dancing." The Japanese student was both confused and a little miffed at his friend's suggestion. Phichit knew that dancing was sort of an off-limits topic for the time being since his downfall at the audition. So why is he suddenly bringing this up?
"Phichit, you know I don't—"
"You literally won't stop moving. And I know you get restless when you don't get release." Yuuri looked at him scandalously, making Phichit give him a disclaimer. "I meant in a non-sexual way, Yuuri, geez."
"What I meant is that you can't stop moving. You almost hit me in the face thrice tonight." Yuuri blushed and mumbled an apology. He knew this would happen at some point.
Dancing is his stress outlet. He would dance until he burns out, which would take quite a while, given his higher-than-average stamina. But there are times when he has no time to dance, so he resorts to listening to music instead. However, when his mind gets too clouded and music isn't enough, his body just starts moving to the beat whatever song that happens to play on his headset. Though they are normally small movements, like how one would move if they were watching dance videos while sitting, it didn't really stop from bothering anyone near him. In this case, it would be Phichit.
"Yuuri, you've been so restless. Maybe it's about time you sought some sort of release. You haven't slept well these past few days."
Yuuri sighed. Phichit was right. He did notice that he was starting to get restless to the point that he can't sleep even after a long day. He can feel energy accumulating in his body, simmering deep in his being waiting to burst forth.
"Who cares if you can't get in there? No one can stop you from doing what you want. If dancing makes you feel better, go ahead. Let no one tell you that you can't."
He gave it some thought. Yuuri was never going to get into that dance company; he is sure of that. But he knew, in his body, in his mind, and in his heart, that he will never be able to give up dancing. Even if he didn't have an audience, his body can express what his mouth can't and that lifts weight from his shoulders. Dancing makes him feel free and safe. He took a deep breath and made up his mind.
Yuuri knew he'll never be able to match up to anyone from Skylight, let alone be a part of it. That thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. He has always watched the team's performances whenever possible, and his eyes always strayed over to the silver-haired dancer; and when they did, his heart beats a little faster.
As goofy as his friend is, he knows that the Thai never fails to get into his skull. He might never be able to dance with Victor, but that shouldn't stop him from dancing if it makes him feel better.
He looked at Phichit. Yuuri opened his mouth to tell him that he made up his mind. But he just nodded and smiled. He can see the certainty in his best friend's eyes.
"That's good, because I really miss seeing you dance." Yuuri smiled widely at him. During their freshman year, he would take Phichit to the abandoned dance studio in the rooftop of what is now the Physical Sciences building and show him his own cover of some dances or some random two-minute routine he made. And he would be glad to do it again after a long time. Yuuri can feel his heart burst into life again. He spent these past three weeks wallowing in his self-pity and he's starting to get tired of it. Though he can't still shake it off entirely, he convinced himself that he will be fine.
Phichit snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Also, I can't bear to see you mistake maple syrup for dishwashing liquid ever again." A red-faced Yuuri repeatedly smacked him with a pillow.
She sipped her coffee as she blankly stared at the screen in front of her. Shirley is one of the university's guards perched on the buildings. Roaming around the campus would have been a more interesting task to undertake, what with all of the interesting shenanigans the students engage in. Instead, Shirley became the compensation for the lack of bars on the side of the Physical Sciences building.
Her ears perked up at the footsteps approaching the building. Even in the darkness, she recognized those silhouettes. She smiled brightly.
"About time the two of you showed up. I really missed watching something interesting on the screen, y'know."
Yuuri and Phichit waved at her. They've known Shirley since their freshman year. They were looking for somewhere secluded to dance their troubles away, and they happened to land their eyes on the building's rooftop. The two of them were unaware of the surveillance cameras in the building and when they already got down the building from dancing, Shirley called them out. They vividly remember the first words she told them: "I'll keep your activities a secret. I do need some entertainment once in a while."
They jolted out of memory lane when she threw them the keys to the stairway gate and the studio. "Seriously, it's been forever since you last showed up."
"Sorry. Life happened." She cackled at their statement beore waving them off.
Soon enough, they got into the dance studio. Yuuri groped around the wall for the light switch and flipped it. Light flooded the studio and they relished in it. A wave of nostalgia flooded through their veins and they inhaled deeply. There was something about the studio's arboreal scent that both calms and excites them.
The dance studio is as big as a classroom that can accommodate 40 students. There are a couple of windows on the side of the studio facing the campus grounds. The wall opposite of the windows is a mirror, huge speakers standing be side it.
"So, Yuuri, what song are you going to dance to?" Phichit asked, sitting down on the floor in front of the mirror. Yuuri plugged his phone to the speakers and scrolled through his playlist. He used to dance to Western music or sometimes classical as he used to do ballet with his old teacher, Minako Okukawa, when he was a kid. But months before college started, Phichit got him into KPop and Yuuri found himself liking the genre's many songs and dances.
He chose a random KPop song, one belonging to a boy group. He handed his phone over to Phichit and pointed to the song he wants to dance to. Yuuri headed to the center of the studio and gave his best friend a thumbs-up, telling him to play the song.
He stood there as the beat box-like intro of the song started. He spun around slowly and somberly shortly after the song started. Then, with an upward snap of his head, he moved his index finger into an arching motion from above as he moved his body backward in a half-body roll.
And then the beat came in.
Yuuri takes pride in his sharp photographic memory. So a week after watching the mirrored dance video a few times, he started practicing it from memory.
And here he is.
He lets himself get partially lost in the music, moving wherever his legs and the beats take him. His arms moved accordingly. Yuuri's movements are fast and snappy, just like how he remembers the dance. He worried for a split second if he was doing something wrong. But he felt his body move without hesitation, so he abandoned that thought in the wind.
But his mind did not fly away. Yuuri hears the music transitioning away from the second chorus.
*Neo ttaemune neomu apa!
Hetgallige hajima!
Phichit wanted to rub his eyes at the scene. He still can't believe that this person dancing right now, his best friend who isn't missing a single beat even with the complicated footwork of the song he chose, is the same Yuuri Katsuki who terribly flunked the audition of the Skylight Dance Company. It was worth mentioning that the boy group has got some complicated dance moves.
Even after a long time of not dancing because of schoolwork, Yuuri still has that flair in him.
Before they knew it, Yuuri is at his ending pose. He sat on one foot, his forearm leaning on one knee. His chest heaved from his heavy breathing. Phichit didn't notice a single tear falling from his eye until Yuuri regained his senses.
"Ph-Phichit! Are you okay? W-Was my dancing th-that bad?"
He sniffed. "Your dancing? Bad? You've got to be fucking kidding me! You fucking nailed that shit, buddy!" Yuuri was very taken aback. Phichit only swears when he is overcome with emotion, be it positive or negative.
"I-I'm…glad…y-you liked it." And there he goes. The bad boy who dominated the dance floor (not that he was sharing it with anyone) just a little while ago is once again his shy and awkward best friend.
"Geez, I really still can't accept the fact that you didn't get in there. I mean, you killed those moves, Yuuri! Yeah, they may not have the most complicated dance moves, but still…!" Yuuri blushed even more at his best friend's compliments.
"Got any more steam left, Yuuri?"
And so, the duo was back to the old routine they had in their freshman days. Whenever they get stressed, they leave their academic work for a little while, and dance the worries away. Sometimes, the songs are upbeat and groovy. Other times, the songs are melancholic and brimming with heartache. There are also songs that have a really strong bass reverberating through their bones, something that Yuuri loves. And there are songs that Yuuri is not really too keen on dancing to, like the ones that are borderline sensual.
He is slowly recovering, finding joy in something he once failed in. He was feeling better. But the same cannot be said of the frustrated Russian dancer wandering around campus this late at night.
Victor tried to come up with a routine multiple times but ended up scrapping them all. His roommate, Chris, was already frustrated with the number of times he had to take the trash out. And Victor was frustrated with the number of times he had to buy a sketchpad, which was only twice but still counted as maddening.
Yakov was starting to worry about him, albeit grumpily. He knew that Victor occasionally gets into slumps, but it never took a month. Five days was the bare maximum, which was surprising for an airhead like him.
And here Victor was, walking around the campus with a chaotic, numb mind. The competition was less than two months away and their dance routine barely reached a minute's worth. He is not the only one in-charge of choreography but he is the one they consider to have great ideas.
He huffed, stuffing his cold hands into his jacket pockets. Victor took a deep breath, raising his head to look at the stars. But as he did, a light caught his eye.
The Physical Sciences building was just up ahead. At this time of night, no one was supposed to be in the building. But apparently, there was still someone at the rooftop. His eyes fell to the entrance and he thought of two things: either there was no surveillance camera at the rooftop or the guard doesn't give a shit.
Victor approached her. She only spared him a split-second glance. "May I help you?"
"Excuse me, but there are people up there in the rooftop."
"I know." Well, that wasn't the answer he expected.
"There's an abandoned dance studio up there, if that's what you're curious about." She said nonchalantly, sipping her coffee. He blinked. Victor finally remembered about the dance studio up there.
An idea popped up in his mind. Maybe he could try choreographing on his own. Maybe he can come up with something without all of the distractions. But he'd probably have to wait for a time when no one is in there.
"If you're thinking of practicing in there," Her voice brought him back out of the clouds. The guard was staring at him now.
"I'm afraid you'll have to either wait for them to come out or find someplace else to dance."
"Who are 'them'?" Victor is now interested. Maybe if he watches them dance, inspiration might strike.
"Eh, they're just some students who I've been friends with since their freshman year. They're best friends." She paused to sip her coffee. "Well, only one of them really dances. The other is just there for moral support."
"May I go up to see them?" The guard gave him a contemplative stare before sighing.
"Knock yourself out. Just don't do anything stupid." Victor mumbled a hushed 'thank you' before dashing up the stairs from the open side. The gate to the stairs was open so he had no trouble getting in.
The problem is his stamina.
By the time he got up to the rooftop, he was breathing hard. But he tried to keep his voice down in fear of startling the two of them. Victor can hear beats faintly vibrating from the walls. With shaky legs, he slowly approached the door and eased it open as quietly as he could.
Sitting against the mirror wall is a guy with tan skin, chilling on the floor. He is holding his green phone up to whoever was dancing in front, presumably recording the whole thing. Victor was quite thankful that his reflection can't be seen.
Then there was the dancer.
His skin is as white as snow and he has black hair, just like his friend, albeit a bit more disheveled. The man's movements were precise, like his body was a marionette and the music is the puppeteer. There were a few moments where his arms moved like clock arms.
Victor narrowed his eyes, racking his brain. He swore that he saw this person somewhere before. Something about the way the man moved tugged at his brain. His face is very familiar as well. There were a few sloppy movements but they were minor. He heard the song stray away from the chorus. The dancer slicked his hair back, making his friend whistle. The song went into a long "whoa".
The dancer scooped the air in front of him and kept it there, his right foot sliding into a circle at the same time. His left foot and hand mirrored the move, making him look like he was holding something in his hands. He suddenly dropped his hands and head as if he was in anguish, surprising Victor. Then from that anguished position, he suddenly straightened up as he faced right, and Victor can see his side profile, parallel to the arms in front of his face. The dancer threw his head back a little, eyes closed and mouth slightly open. What he did next made Victor's heart stop.
He made a body roll. Twice.
In those seconds where Victor saw the dancer's face from the mirror and from the side, it hit him like a lance in the gut.
He can't remember the surname, but he knew that this guy's name is Yuuri. He tried not to laugh at how this Japanese man shares the same name with Plisetsky.
Victor's lips pressed in a thin line. He remembered the Yuuri he saw from the audition, and he had a lot of flaws in his routine. He kept tripping over his own feet and his arms flew everywhere like that of an inflatable dancing man.
But seeing Yuuri dance his heart out in this studio definitely convinced Victor that he only fucked up because of nerves. He couldn't believe his eyes. The awkward, frustrated dancer from their audition actually looks so sexy doing body rolls in front of his friend with no care in the world. Even if he can't understand Korean, he knew that the song was nowhere near sensual. It was borderline melancholic.
His movements slowed down along with the music. Then it sped up as the rap part of the song came up. He spun on his knees before fully kneeling on the floor, moving his arms like a clock.
Victor didn't know what made chills run up his spine, the high note from the song or the pained expression on Yuuri's face as his arm shot up, as if reaching for someone he knew he'll never be able to reach. But it didn't last for three seconds as he executed a series of footwork and arm movements. Then he did the body rolls again.
Yuuri came to a huddled position as the song came to a close. He sat on his knees and his arms are wrapped around him. His position echoed the sad ending notes of the song. The tan guy ended the video and discreetly hid his phone behind him before clapping.
Victor felt his heart relax. Yuuri perfectly amplified the sadness in the song that it made his heart clench. The song spoke of loneliness, of not wanting to let go. It felt as if whoever is singing has this fear, the fear of his beloved disappearing at the slightest touch, as if she was a dream.
Yuuri danced to a couple more songs before they called it a night. During the whole time Yuuri danced, Victor was not able to take his eyes off him. His heart was beating like crazy in his chest and his face was heating up to insurmountable levels. In the three dances Yuuri had performed, he saw different sides of the dancer that Victor did not expect to see from the person who did terribly in their audition.
Victor jumped into the shadows as they exited the studio. Yuuri did not even notice that the door was slightly ajar when they came out. But his best friend peered behind him when Yuuri wasn't looking. He smirked at Victor before catching up to Yuuri. The Russian was surprised. He thought he was well-hidden.
That aside, Yuuri definitely stirred something inside of him. Could it be attraction? Could it be inspiration? It could be either or both.
Chris entered their dorm room to see his roommate staring at the wall with a dreamy look in his eyes. He raised an eyebrow. Normally, when Victor is spacing out, he is either tired or thinking deeply. And when Victor spaces out, he never smiled.
"Mon cher? Are you there?" He tapped Victor on the shoulder. He pushed him lightly but he didn't budge. Chris clicked his tongue. Victor's far too gone for a gentle tap to get him back to Earth. He grabbed the thick bundle of readings from his desk and slapped Victor's head with it, effectively snapping him out of his daydream.
Victor looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes. He brought his hand up to the back of his head. "Oh hey Chris, since when did you come in?"
"I came in just now." He sat beside Victor. "Are you alright? You were spacing out…and you were smiling."
Victor chuckled. "Well, let's just say I saw someone interesting last night." Chris gave him an amused look. "Ooh~ may I know who this person is?"
"Well…I can't remember his last name, but his name is Yuuri." Had optic nerves not existed, Chris' eyes would have fallen right out of their sockets.
"Wait, you mean that angsty teenager in your team?! How could you not remember his surname?" Victor laughed aloud, his voice tumbling around the walls of their room. It took the Russian a good three minutes before he calmed down.
"No, Chris, I'm not referring to Plisetsky, oh my god!" He laughed even harder but he was quicker to settle this time.
"As I've said, I can't remember this Yuuri's surname."
"Well, what does he look like?"
Victor tapped his chin. "For one, he looks Japanese." At the mention of Yuuri's nationality, Chris' eyes lit up like light bulbs. He clasped his hands.
"Oh, I know now! You meant Yuuri Katsuki." It was Chris' turn to chuckle.
"He's my classmate in Psychology 1. He's very shy, that little guy. Our professor really likes calling him for recitation." Victor slightly pouted in contemplation. It was quite consistent with what he has seen of Yuuri so far when he wasn't dancing.
"So, you're interested in Yuuri? I can get you two to meet up or something."
"No, I don't think that's a good idea." It's not that Victor doesn't want to see Yuuri. It's just that he doesn't want to present himself all of a sudden, knowing how shy the Japanese dancer is. He doesn't think that a sudden approach is appropriate.
"Oh come on, Vik! I am acquainted with him! You'll miss a golden opportunity!"
"How are you sure that that's Yuuri I'm talking about?"
"Oh, I'm seated behind him, so I can definitely see the mirrored dance practices he watches on his phone." Victor fell silent.
"Chris, did you know that he auditioned for Skylight?" His Swiss friend blinked, surprise in his eyes at the sudden change of topic. Victor sighed. He narrated what he saw of Yuuri during the audition, of how he saw Yuuri dancing in the abandoned studio, of how he wanted to know him more, of what he felt after what happened. Chris chuckled.
"I see why he would. He is a huge fan of yours." Victor's eyes widened.
"Really?"
"Oui. He has downloaded videos of your performances. And I'm pretty sure he has fancams as well."
Victor laughed heartily. He knows that some of the members of their team joined because of their favorites. But to know that the person who caught his interest is a fan of him is quite delightful.
"I can keep tabs on him for you, if you want, mon cher." He winked. Victor shook his head 'no.' "It's fine. I don't need him getting scared of me." Chris snorted. "You talk as if spying on him isn't creepy." Victor hit him on the head.
"Seriously, if you need a wingman, you know who to call."
Yuuri took in a whiff of the cool night air. He smiled gently as he looked up at the starry sky, looking for his favorite constellations to shrug off the feeling of being watched.
It's a Friday. He's done with most of his tasks so he can let loose. Phichit is out for the night to go clubbing with their two other friends, Guang Hong and Leo. Yuuri declined with no hesitation, knowing well what happens when he gets drunk.
Surfing the Net is not exactly the most exciting thing he'd want to do on a Friday night either. What better way to spend it than exhausting his stamina?
Soon, he reached the steps of the building. Shirley lazily waved the keys in her hand and Yuuri took them without hesitation. He mumbled a 'thank you' as he headed to the stairway gate. He unlocked it in one swift go and jogged up the stairs.
Relief surged through him as he turned on the lights. He took in a whiff of the studio. Its arboreal scent is gone, but the atmosphere of the studio is enough to get him buzzed. He removed his glasses and put on his contacts since Phichit isn't around to help him with selecting the music.
Yuuri connected his phone to the speaker and clicked on the song he wanted to dance to. He always made sure that the song has a three-second pause before it plays so he can get into position.
Yuuri faced the mirror. His hips are canted to the left, his right knee slightly raised to form a triangle with his legs. His left arm ran across his torso, his right arm slightly perpendicular to it. A piano started playing in the background. At the right note, Yuuri slowly raised his right hand before lowering it down along with his body.
And when the beat came, he started walking in a strong, feminine fashion.
He felt grateful that Phichit wasn't there. Yuuri said that he isn't fond of dancing to girl groups. And once his best friend knew that he danced to that kind of song, he won't let Yuuri live it down.
The refrain came in. He waved his arms to the left as if he was dancing to hula. Then, he twisted on the balls of his feet, making his heels move to the right as he swatted his arm in the same direction. He pointed to his right temple repeatedly as he moved forward. After a very short sequence of hand movements and a spin, the chorus was almost here. And Yuuri was far too gone into the music to really care.
My love is on fire~
Yuuri went from gliding across the floor and swinging his arms along to sliding his hands perpendicularly only to sweep his right hand upwards at the third slide. The chorus ended and the second verse rolled in.
He summoned from the recesses of his mind what his ballet teacher taught him about moving like a woman. And it proved to be helpful in the second verse. He knows his body is flexible. He knows how to move like a man.
But sometimes, to be a good dancer means doing something you wouldn't normally do; he remembers Minako saying.
And that would sometimes mean moving like the opposite gender.
The bridge came in after blankly dancing the chorus. He glided on the floor as elegantly as he can. He raised his hands up and folded them over his head as he moved his hips from side-to-side. Yuuri then formed circles four times around his face with his arm before shooting said arm to the right.
He braced himself for the next part. Yuuri improvises solo moves out of moves that require team movement. He knew he hasn't polished it yet, but he still did it anyway. He ended up with his hands intertwined above his head.
Yuuri can hear the song approaching its end when he repeated moves from the beginning and the chorus, something he found himself executing smoothly. The ending notes came in. He pointed diagonally up in the air and crossed them down by his middle in a consecutive fashion.
He ended the dance with a sweep of his index finger from left to right, his right leg bent inward. Yuuri panted lightly, finally returning to earth. But as soon as his focus returned and his eyes fell on the mirror, he froze. Yuuri immediately wondered if he was dehydrated to the point of delirium. But he was sure that he drank a lot of water before this.
So why and how is he seeing Victor Nikiforov casually leaning on the wall with a smirk on his face?
How did he not notice his idol? And how long has he been there?
Yuuri shut his eyes tightly and took deep breaths. He's not there, he's not there, he's not there! He chanted in his head over and over, convincing himself that he's merely hallucinating, that there's no way his idol will be standing there in the same studio as him.
He took one last breath and turned around. Yuuri opened his eyes to see no one standing by the wall. He didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed. He shook his head and grabbed his water bottle. He gulped all of the remaining liquid in one swig.
But the desolate feeling still sat in his chest. Maybe he did feel sad that his idol was a mere hallucination. But then again he would have a heart attack if Victor really was there.
He aimlessly scrolled through his playlist and stopped at a random song. Yuuri remembers this one. Victor performed a solo during a charity fundraiser organized by Skylight. The song sounded lonely in Yuuri's opinion or maybe it looked as such because of the movements. Nonetheless, it was one of his favorite performances by Victor.
Yuuri hit the play button and went into position. A rich, baritone voice filled the studio and he felt his body move slowly. His movements didn't have the power and sharpness of boy group dances or the combined elegance and ferocity of girl group dances. There's a hint of neither masculinity nor femininity in the dance, despite the song being sung by a man.
He wasn't stomping or skidding on the hardwood floor like he usually did. He slid across it as if it was ice, his arms calm and fluid like water. The only noticeable patterns in the dance he's emulating are when he extends his arms forward or upward and when he curls those arms around his lithe frame.
He closes his eyes, Victor's performance replaying in his mind. He's certain that neither of them knew Italian but his body language was enough to get through. He knows that Victor is just amping up his performance with his expressions, but it felt too real. It was as if Victor actually felt lonely. Or was he?
Regardless, Yuuri can definitely identify. He missed home. Studying in a foreign country will always make him feel alone, even with a person he considers his best friend. And with his anxiety issues, he often feels as if he is against the whole world with no one backing him up. One small mistake such as asking a leading question during an interview and he will brood over it for months. And then, he has his failed tryout for the Skylight DC.
He was always convinced that in the end, Yuuri only has himself. Even though he has a loving family and supportive friends, he still needs validation that they are still there. Everyone is there for him, so why does he always feel as if he's fighting alone?
Drip.
He didn't notice that his vision had blurred and water has dropped to the floor. He stopped dancing and looked down. Yuuri cursed. There is no reason for him to cry, so why is he…? He closed his eyes and bowed down his head, tears running down his nose. Was he really this pathetic to let his emotions rile him up so easily in a place he considered his safe zone?
"You're too handsome to cry, you know."
The time Yuuri was supposed to spend on berating himself went to bolting off backwards right into the wall at a speed he never imagined he could reach. Yuuri felt his butt hit the floor.
His mind reeled back from the shock going up his spine and from the voice that came out of nowhere. Yuuri tried to process the whole thing. He did not hear any footsteps approach him. Even with the music playing through the speakers, he should have heard any suspicious sounds. And that voice; where has he heard it before?
He blinked rapidly and shook his head. He focused on the figure approaching him. Long legs strode to him confidently yet slowly. The figure crouched before him, making Yuuri look up and consequently giving him the second heart attack of the night.
Yuuri gaped like a fish before him. He wanted to move, do anything to snap out of it, but he felt paralyzed. He forced his mouth to at least make a sound.
"Vi-Victor?" He squeaked. The Russian just chuckled at him and ruffled his hair.
Yuuri trembled in his touch, his face heating up rapidly. Victor Nikiforov is right there in front of him, touching his hair and looking straight into his eyes. His heart thundered in his ears and his vision swam. His eyes are as blue as the sky and his silver hair almost looked like glistening snow. The light of the room made him look so ethereal even with a black coat draped on his shoulders.
"You're so cute, Yuuri."
Before either of them could say anything more, he felt himself hit the floor.
Yuuri woke up to a dull throb in his head. He opened his eyes to see a familiar ceiling and curtains. He blinked but the room remained blurry. He figured that someone must have taken off his contacts.
How did I get here?
He tried to recall last night's events. Yuuri remembered pausing halfway through the dance because of tears. Then he remembers someone coming up to him, then him scurrying to the wall, then…
Everything struck him like lightning.
He started panicking externally. He then started convincing himself that he was dreaming again. But the dull ache in his limbs was very much real. All of his thoughts turned to mush and chaotic noises. Yuuri doesn't understand what's going on in his mind anymore. He didn't know which thoughts to prioritize.
All of the turmoil came to a halt when the door clicked open. Yuuri felt his head snap to the direction of the door
"Yuuri, you're awake! Are you okay?" Footsteps rushed to him and the edge of the bed dipped. His glasses were slipped on him but Yuuri didn't even need them to know that Phichit looked deathly worried.
"I was so worried about you, Yuuri! Your caller ID came up but a different voice came from the other line and he sounded scared and—"
Yuuri placed his hands on Phichit's shoulders. He swore his best friend is ten times more of a worrywart compared to his mother. "Calm down, Phichit. I'm fine, see?"
"I know but I really thought you got into a terrible accident. I'm glad you're okay." He gave him a relieved smile and Yuuri returned it with an even brighter one. It instantly turned into a competition of who could smile the brightest, grins getting wider and wider until they ended up bending over in laughter.
Phichit stood up after three good minutes of cackling and wheezing. "I'm gonna heat some leftover pizza for us." But before he took two steps to their kitchenette, he turned around. "By the way," he slipped Yuuri a piece of paper.
"Congratulations on scoring a date." He left a wide-eyed Yuuri to heat their breakfast.
Yuuri's eyes trailed down to the piece of paper on his blanket. He flipped it to see a neatly handwritten letter. It was quite short, but every word turned his face into deep shades of red. Despite the sender being dubbed as a playboy, he sounded polite in his letter even with its subtle flirty undertone.
He felt his lips curl up into a feeble smile despite his heart thumping wildly in his chest.
Hey there, gorgeous!
I really loved watching you dance last night. I wish I had seen more. I finally saw how great you really are at dancing. Also, I hope you're okay. That was quite a nasty hit.
Anyway, I'd love to know you better, so maybe we can meet up tomorrow evening? I'm sure you can help me with something. ^_^
Here's my number: ***********
Be seeing you, Yuuri! ^3^
-Victor Nikiforov
-XXX-
A/N: There you have it, the first oneshot out of thirty. ._. I have a thing for cliffhangers. Please forgive me. XD And pardon the lame title. XD
*Translation: It hurts so much because of you. Stop confusing me!
As I've mentioned in the warning, there are KPop songs in this fic (except for the last one). Here are the songs Yuuri danced to (in order):
BTS – Danger
VIXX – Eternity
BLACKPINK – Playing with Fire
Stay Close to Me
I have 29 songs left in my list but they're all still tentative. In that case, I'd really love to take songfic requests from you guys. ^_^
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this first oneshot. Thank you so much for reading this! ^_^ I'll see you guys in the next one!
Stay safe, happy, and healthy everyone! :D
-RSHanji